Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Pakistan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Arcadia to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Nas. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
The Residents,
Don Cherry,
Theoretical Girls,
Crooked Eye,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Fortunes,
The Modern Lovers,
Subhumans,
Infiniti,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bob Dylan,
Metal Thangz,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dave Gahan,
Camouflage,
Ituana,
Jacob Miller,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Sound,
Sound Behaviour,
Roy Ayers,
Donald Byrd,
Siglo XX,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rites of Spring,
Banda Bassotti,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Invisible,
James White and The Blacks,
The Techniques,
Colin Newman,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Germs,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Blossom Toes,
Eric Copeland,
Sixth Finger,
Hot Snakes,
The Happenings,
Lou Christie,
Terry Callier,
Wings,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kas Product,
The Gladiators,
Sun Ra,
The Neon Judgement,
The Evens,
Jimmy McGriff,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Fad Gadget,
Fela Kuti,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pole,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Faraquet,
Andrew Hill,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.